Chapter 4

Vikings began to fall as the Fomorians fought back, hacking heads from trunks, cutting limbs from bodies, and forcing their attackers to retreat towards the archway. Inghen was caught up in the press and she pulled back as the Vikings began to retreat.

As the wall of flailing bodies surged towards me, I turned and fled.

The noise of battle pursued me down the passage as I ran, the only thought in my mind to find some way to escape. It wasn't until I collided with it that my fear-numbed brain remembered the boulder across the entrance. I scuffed at it and scrabbled at it, breaking my nails as I tried to dig my way under it. But soon I stopped, and collapsed sobbing to the ground.

The thunder of feet alerted me to the presence of the Vikings behind me. I staggered up again as they rushed up the passage.

'Gunnholm!' I heard Inghen shout. 'Surely you can move the rock?'

'Maybe,' the berserker grunted in reply. I cowered away into the corner as I heard him moving towards it.

'You must,' Thorir told him from somewhere near me. 'Or else we're dead.'

From behind them, the noise of battle was still audible; the Vikings at the back were sacrificing their lives to keep off the pursuing Fomorians.

I heard Gunnholm huffing and blowing to himself, as he did whenever entering the berserk frenzy; champing at the rawhide of his shield-rim, growling and yapping like a dog. Suddenly he let forth an almighty howl that froze the blood in my veins, and I heard a grinding noise from the stone. He was heaving at it, rocking it, forcing it back: the superhuman strength of the berserk frenzy was on him!

Suddenly, cold, hazy light rushed into the passage. The rock fell back, and in poured the blessed light of the moon. Though it was night outside, the darkness had a more wholesome quality than the pitch-blackness of the barrow. The Vikings rushed forward. But before they could reach the arch, I scrambled between Gunnholm's legs and dashed away.

'Stop him!' I heard Inghen roar. 'It's the traitor!'

I sped across the open space, reaching the cliff in seconds, and began to scramble up it like a lizard. Behind me the noise of pursuit slowly died away; Norsemen are seldom as agile as Irishmen, and they clearly found the going tough.

Soon I had reached the top of the granite formation, and stood still beneath the gleaming stars. From here I could see down into the hidden bay at the opposite end of the island from where the Trollwife was moored, the only truly safe harbour on the island. I stared down into the shadows of the narrow little firth. Silhouetted against the dark waters, the black sails of Thrond's ship billowed in the night breeze. Hope sprang in my heart, soon to be dashed.

I ran forward to find a way down the cliff, then stopped short.

The sails were billowing because they were casting off! The banks of oars hissed in and out of the water, the sails fluttered, picking up what wind they could, and the ship cut through the waves of the firth, heading rapidly for the open sea.

Sinking to my knees on the edge of the cliff, I sobbed with frustration.

So the Vikings found me. I went with them unresisting.

I stood on the deck of the Trollwife facing Inghen. Around us the Vikings rowed across the lightening waters as the sun rose over the island at our back. The crew was almost down to half its strength and they had no gold to compensate their losses, but they were rowing as fast as possible; though the Fomorians had not followed them beyond the entrance to the barrow, they were taking no chances. Inghen had given them orders to head straight back to Dublin. Now she had another matter to deal with.

'Traitor,' she murmured, almost to herself. 'What do you have to say?'

I gazed at the deck, unable to meet her cold gaze.

'I'm... I'm sorry,' I managed.

She laughed scornfully.

'You're sorry?' she sneered. 'You think that will help? I'm not your mother, you fool.' She sighed deeply, disappointedly. 'Why did you conspire with my brother?' she demanded suddenly. 'Couldn't you accept that a woman could be a Viking? This is what I get from everyone. A woman couldn't be ruthless enough, a woman should stay behind and raise children - hah! I've shown them.' She shook her head. 'Is that it?'

I shrugged.

'Nothing so personal. It was just a matter of business. I have to admit, I quite like you, but business is business. I was looking for someone to sell my father's map to - I'd never guessed there was any truth behind it, I just wanted a bit of gold and then I'd be out of there. Then I met Thrond and he came up with this plot to get revenge on you, and that's where it all got a bit complicated. But it was the gold he promised me that I was after.'

'That's all that matters to you?' Inghen demanded scornfully.

I smiled bleakly.

'That's what it's like in the real world,' I told her. 'We can't all be Viking warriors, living off warfare and raiding. For most of us, it's working in the fields - or a few of us are traders...'

'Cheats, you mean,' Inghen replied.

'That too,' I said, shrugging again. 'But when it comes down to it, you're just a bloody-handed pirate yourself; a thief, a murderer...'

'I'm a warrior, by Odin!' she shouted. 'I fought for my place against overwhelming opposition, and I'll fight to keep it! Can you make that claim?'

'I've cheated my way through life, like my merchant father before me. You've killed people instead. Neither of us has brought our fellow human beings much benefit, but who does? It's a lot easier just to look after yourself in this life, I've found, not to go chasing after high ideals. If I could do something for other people, I would, but... When I was in holy orders, they expected me to pray for the sins of the world, but that never stopped anyone sinning. And in the end I found it more beneficial to sin than to avoid it...'

'Sin...' sneered Inghen. 'Christian nonsense! It's glory we fight for in this life, not virtue. That's why I'm a Viking. It's not what I make from raiding - it's the name I have gained for myself. The bards sing of me in every hall throughout Ireland and the Hebrides! When I die, I will be remembered. But when you die, the best you can hope for is that you'll be quickly forgotten.'

I stood silent for a while. What she'd said had hit me hard. I'd nursed a delusion that she found me attractive, but now I knew that all she cared about was renown. Worldly fame, the priests would call it, and then add something disparaging. Still, I had to admit that - in the narrow terms of this fallen world - she'd made more of herself than I ever did. I looked up at her cold face.

'Well, we've established that...' I murmured, as if I didn't care. 'What now?'

She moved closer to me, staring into my eyes. My heart began to pound. A heady mix of sweat and leather met my nostrils; rank, I have to admit, but at that moment it seemed like all the perfumes of Paradise.

'I don't understand you,' she said in a faraway voice. She placed her hands on my shoulders, gazing almost tenderly into my eyes. 'You stir the strangest of feelings in me...'

I swallowed. Could it be true? I couldn't believe my ears! She came even closer. My heart was thundering again. My lips were dry. I moistened them.

'I don't know what my feelings for you are...' she murmured. I wanted to explain, but my throat was numb. 'I've never felt like this before,' she added.

'I don't like it.'

I tried to say something, but before I could, she grabbed me by the sleeves of my jerkin, and heaved me over the side of the ship. As the cold brine closed over my head, I heard Thorir laughing harshly.

It was a long swim home.